


If You Leave Now

by hunters_retreat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean wanted to go to college, M/M, Sam Finds Out, john is a bastard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-14
Updated: 2009-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-04 17:06:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5341832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The problem wasn’t the words his father had thrown at Sam all those years ago.  It was that they weren’t the first time he’d heard them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Leave Now

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this forever ago and it never really had a direction.  I'm not entirely happy with this, but I decided to post it anyway just to throw it out there :P  

  
  
"If you leave us now, don’t come back!”

 

 

 

Dean shook his head of memories, of dreams that clung to his mind and enshrouded him in fog and confusion.  He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as he tried to relax back into the mattress.  The soft shuffle of fabric made him turn his head and he saw Sam looking at him from the other bed.  He’d turned onto his stomach and propped himself up on both elbows, looking at Dean with concern.  It was the type of look he hated, mostly because Sam was always worried about something and he hated adding to it. 

 

 

“Y’ok Dean?” Sam slurred quietly.

 

 

Dean took another deep breath, giving Sam a small smile.  “Yeah Sammy, go back to sleep.”  Sam continued to stare at him for a minute, then turned to his side, back to Dean, and fell back into blissful sleep.  Dean wished it was as easy for him. 

 

 

It was hard sometimes, being with Sam 24/7.  They gave each other what privacy they could, but there were some secrets he didn’t care to share and it was always those that spilled into his dreams.  He knew that Sam talked in his sleep sometimes and he was afraid he’d do the same.

 

 

The problem wasn’t the words his father had thrown at Sam all those years ago.  It was that they weren’t the first time he’d heard them.  Dean loved his father and would defend him to anyone that said John Winchester wasn’t a perfect father.  In his heart though, he knew it wasn’t true.  He knew that he himself was more a father to Sammy than John had ever been, knew that all those fatherly talks had been Dean’s responsibility, the school functions and conferences had been Dean’s arena, taking care of Sammy and making sure he had everything he needed had always been Dean’s job and though Sammy called him brother, his job description was far more ‘Dad’ than that.  It had gotten him into trouble more than once with John and had changed the course of his entire life.  More than once.

 

 

There were times he wanted to resent Sam, to resent the choices he made and the price Dean had paid for them, but in the end he couldn’t.  He’d raised Sammy and he’d never been prouder than the day Sam had walked out the door to Stanford.  He’d been almost as proud when Sam had refused to get pulled back into hunting full time because Dad was missing.  That he’d gone back after Jessica’s death wasn’t a real surprise, but in his heart Dean knew that Sam would go back to school and normal and all his dreams one day, if they survived all of this. 

 

 

He looked across the beds again and sat up, running a hand through his hair.  This was old drama and he hated that it was resurfacing now after so many years.  Maybe it was meeting Ash and his don’t-touch-my-computer-you-moron attitude and ‘business in back’ hair do that were bothering him.  He’d liked Ash well enough, but he had thought for a split second that someone like Ash would be beyond judging.  He snorted softly at that and slung his legs over the edge of the bed. 

 

 

No, Ash was like everyone else, taking a single look at Dean and Sam and labeling them.  Most people found out the hard way that Sam was more than just a geek.  Sure, he was a great geek, but when push came to shove, people found out that the book loving dork had more steel than they expected.  Sam didn’t get all those muscles just to look pretty.  His father had trained them to be weapons and Sam hadn’t let himself go soft in his college years.

 

 

Dean on the other hand, rarely tried to prove people’s assumptions about him wrong.  He was the bad ass, the rebel, the aloof loner.  No one cared to look deeper and that was fine by him.  Except that sometimes, he wished it was true.  He wished he was nothing more than that, just a good soldier that took his orders and didn’t care. 

 

 

Oh, hell.  He wasn’t going to get back to sleep anytime soon.  He went to the bathroom and ran some water over his face, then grabbed a beer from the cooler, coming away with a dripping hand because the ice had melted a while ago.  Still, it was almost cool and he hoped a little alcohol might help him settle his thoughts and let him sleep.  He lay on top of the covers, his back against the headrest as he thought about the fight more than 10 years before.

 

 

His father had come home from a hunt, furious and fuming about hunters who didn’t know what they were doing.  Greenhorns, he called them, and complained every time he came across someone new to the game who wanted to tag along for a hunt.  He never stopped them, because he’d been there himself once, but he didn’t like it and it was all Dean could do to listen to John’s tirade about it. 

 

 

He’d gone to the kitchenette in the trailer home they were renting and grabbed a drink for John.  The beer was cold and the weather hot so Dean wasn’t surprised when his father finished the beer quickly and simply held it out for Dean to take.  He replaced it with another and waited until John finally stopped talking about the hunt. 

 

 

“Sammy?”  His Dad asked in a quiet voice.

 

 

“Staying at a friend’s tonight, remember Dad?  They had some sort of project to finish tonight.”  Sometimes those sort of things slipped through his Dad’s memory and he blamed Dean for letting Sam out of his sight, while others he would simply shrug. 

 

 

Tonight was a shrug and he wasn’t sure if John remembered, or if he trusted Dean’s judgment enough when it came to Sam to leave it alone.  Dean blamed the alcohol for his father’s lapses, or the adrenaline from the hunt, or whatever else he needed to grab onto to keep himself sane.  Tonight, he swallowed against the lump in his throat and wondered if he shouldn’t have tried this another time.  Too late now, he thought glumly.

 

 

He took a deep breath and sat down on the couch across from his Dad in the recliner that was, thankfully, still upright and holding an awake but relaxed John Winchester.  He reached out for some papers on the table and cleared his throat. 

 

 

“Dad, I-” He paused, not sure how to do this.  He’d been agonizing about it all summer and now that the moment was upon him he still had no idea.  “College.  I got in and I’m going.”  He blurted it out, unable to make any of the calm, rational thoughts in his head materialize.

 

 

His father looked at him for a minute, then laughed.  He got out of the chair, patted his 18 year old’s head as he passed on his way to the bedroom, like it was the best joke he’d heard all night.

 

 

Dean looked at the papers in his hand and realized they were shaking.  He’d finally managed to say it, and his father hadn’t bothered to take it seriously.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**           

 

 

Sam woke him in the morning with coffee and a Danish from across the street so Dean let himself be lulled away from the mattress that had finally begun to offer comfort a few hours before.  They didn’t have anything to kill, no prospects, and Dean figured he could eat, drink, and be merrily on his way back to sleep before Sam realized he was out.

 

 

Sam had other plans, of course.  There were so many things between them now, so much had happened in the past year and Dean had no way of trying to make things better.  Jess was dead.  Dad was dead.  They were all they had now.

 

 

Dean looked up at Sam and had to look away quickly, anger building in him again at the thought of what their father had taken from them both.  He couldn’t vent it though, couldn’t give reign to the feelings that were threatening to overpower him.  Sam didn’t deserve to be the brunt of that and he knew he’d never be able to just let a little out.  It was all or nothing and the whole of Dean’s life had been spent taking care of Sam.  He’d be damned if he was going to add to his burden.

 

 

“Dean?”

 

 

“Yeah Sammy?”

 

 

“It’s Sam.” He said with an eye roll that Dean didn’t have to see to smile about.  “What would you have done different?”

 

 

“Jesus Sam, I don’t want to talk about this, alright?  I’m a hunter and that’s all I ever wanted.”  The lie was effortless after this many years, to the point that sometimes he almost believed it himself.

 

 

“I didn’t mean that.  I meant, if you were Dad.  I don’t know.  If you opened the door one day and found you had 2 sons on the front step that needed you?  Would you have done the same thing he did, train them, let them into this world?”

 

 

Dean looked up at Sam and frowned, then raised his brows in confusion.  “I don’t know Sammy.  I mean … Dad loved us, you know?  He might not have been perfect, but he loved us.  It’s a lot more than most kids have.”  He bit his tongue with the rest of it.  His father died for him, sold his soul to save him.  How could you fault someone after they did that for you?  It didn’t stop the doubt in his head though.

 

 

“I just … I don’t think I would do it Dean.  If Jess … if we’d … I would have walked away from this.  I keep thinking about it.  It’s all I can seem to think about.  Would I have made the same mistakes Dad made?  Am I now?”

 

 

Dean sighed.  So that was what this was about?  Dad and Sam had been fighting since before Sam hit puberty and it was only in the last few months of their Dad’s life that the two had come to realize they were more alike than not, that it wasn’t their differences that had them butting heads constantly.  Now Sam was looking to compare their lives.

 

 

“Sam, you can’t know what you’d do, anymore than we can look back and see why Dad did what he did.  You think he really wanted this for us Sammy?”

 

 

Dean had to look away at Sam’s indignant look before his brother could read his own face.  As soon as the words were out, he felt the horrible guilt riding him because he knew that no matter what their Dad might have wanted in the beginning, no matter what intention he’d had, he’d made sure his boys were going to be hunters.  To the end.  But Sammy didn’t know that and Dean’s protective streak was trying to make sure he never did.

 

 

“Seemed like he did when he told me not to come back.”

 

 

Dean flinched slightly at the words, hoping Sam hadn’t seen it.  “He might have said those words, but he never meant them.  Not to you Sammy.  He was just scared for you.”

 

 

The silence was drowning him.  It was like Chinese water torture.  He knew the next drip was coming, but Sam was prolonging it, making him anticipate it’s next hit.  He turned to look at his brother and saw the confusion there, the uncertainty.

 

 

“What do you mean, not to me?”

 

 

Oh hell.  The drip hit hard, leaving him emotionally reeling and unable to think clearly.  He refused to answer this one.  He did the only thing he knew to do when he didn’t want to talk and Sam wouldn’t let go.  He ran.

 

 

**

 

 

 

 

The morning after, Dean walked into the living area of the trailer and found his Dad standing over the papers he’d left on the table.   He was barely awake, still in his pjs, and thinking he needed to get himself decent before Sam was dropped off in case the kid’s parents wanted to come in, but the look his father gave him made him forget everything else.  He took a step back from that gaze instinctively.  John had never been an abusive man, never hurt his kids intentionally, but Dean had only seen that sort of anger from his father on the job.

 

 

“You meant it?”  John said softly.

 

 

His father stood, still holding the papers in one hand.  The only thing he could do was nod.

 

 

“You think you can stop before this hunt is done?  You think you can just leave your mother’s killer on the loose?  That you can leave me when I need you?” 

 

 

“Dad, it’s just school.  I’d be home for holiday and the summer.  Then in 4 years I’d be done and I could come back.”  He tried to explain.  He wasn’t abandoning his family, god knows he couldn’t do that, but knew that given a chance, he could make things better for them.  Education was the way to do that.  “Dad, there’s so much I can learn, things that I can adapt for our purposes if I just knew more-“

 

 

“And where do you think you can get the money for school and books Dean?”

 

 

Dean took a deep breath, forcing tears back.  So his father hadn’t bothered to look through all the papers, just the top one.  He’d thrown in some other information underneath his acceptance letter, information about the physics and mechanical engineering programs that seemed to have some ideas that could merit a look from a hunter’s view, but his father hadn’t seen that much.  Hadn’t seen the scholarship letter either.  Dean pushed down the thought that his father hadn’t cared enough to look that far.

 

 

“Scholarship, sir.”  He was proud that his voice was steadying out now.  “I was able to ge-“

 

 

“An ivy league school to pay your tuition Dean?  Really?  You barely manage to make it to school Dean, let along get good grades.  How would you get in, let alone get a scholarship?”

 

 

And that hurt about as bad as anything.  He didn’t think Dean was smart enough to get the grades, but he was smart enough to blackmail or hack his way in to a fraudulent acceptance?  For the first time in longer than he could remember, Dean was mad at their father for his own sake.  He never fought with Dad except when Sammy was involved and only then when he knew Sammy needed something Dad wasn’t giving him.  Like staying in a rented trailer home for a few months while Dad hunted so Sammy could go to school for a while in one place.  It didn’t happen all the time, but when they were at a good school and there was plenty of supernatural activity for Dad to hunt within a few days drive, he pushed.  Today he wanted to fight for himself though, something new and terrifying and completely exhilarating.

 

 

“How would you know about my grades?” He demanded then.  “I graduated a year early Dad!  I drop Sammy off in the mornings here and go hang out at a garage close to his school so I can keep an eye on him.  I was smart enough to make a deal with the owner and he lets me take care of the Impala if I give him a hand every now and again, pays me when they need the help more than just a little.”  He looked down to see his hands clenched into tight fists but couldn’t find the strength to let them loose.  “Look Dad, I took some time to think about it, and I want to go to school.”

 

 

A car pulled into the driveway and Dean went to look out the door, seeing Sam talking to his friend a little longer.  Great.  He was going to get here just in time.  He’d tried to do this last night so Sam wouldn’t have to be a part of this.

 

 

“And what about Sam?”  His father asked quietly.  “Who’s going to take care of Sam?”

 

 

“He’s 14 Dad.  He doesn’t need a babysitter anymore.”

 

 

“No, he doesn’t.  But he’s a hunter and you’d let him go out without back-up?” 

 

 

“You wouldn’t let him hunt alone.”  Dean looked away from the door, angry with this father for trying to make him feel guilty about this.  Yes, he felt guilty.  Sam had been his life, his purpose for as long as he could remember, but he needed something more than just this.  He needed to be able to contribute something, besides just a body.  He wanted to be more than just a soldier in this war.  He knew he could make things, could imagine the things he saw in everyday life turned around and used to help trap demons and destroy ghouls.  He had all sorts of ideas, but just needed the know how to make it all work.  School would give him the chance to learn the basics and theories behind what he needed to do.  So yes, he was leaving, but only to make it better for them all.  To help his father defeat the demon and give Sammy the life he deserved, with a home, a place to be proud of.  Maybe a family to be proud of too.

 

 

John smirked.  “You’re 18 Dean and you can do what you want, but you better know what you’re doing because I’ll be damned if I let Sammy close to someone who would abandon their family.”

 

 

Sam was just starting to walk away from the car up the sidewalk to the house as John finished his words.  Dean turned to stare at him, horrified at his father thinking he would abandon them and stunned at the level his father was willing to drop to in this.

 

 

“If you us leave now, don’t come back!  You never get to come back to him again Dean.  So make your choice.”

 

 

**

 

 

 

 

His attempt to run from Sam only lasted until Sam got bored and walked the three blocks to the diner.  He walked in and took a seat across from Dean in the booth at the back of the restaurant without a word.  Instead of saying anything, he grabbed some utensils from a neighboring table and began picking at Dean’s pancakes.  It was an old dance and one Dean drew a small amount of comfort from. 

 

 

“Dea-”

 

 

“Sammy?  I don’t want to do this, alright?  I told you that already.  You and I have different ideas, different dreams, but …” He paused, not sure if he wanted to give even this to his brother.  “We weren’t always so different.”

 

 

“I don’t know what you mean by that man.”  Sam said with a shake of his head.  “Something is bothering you though and it’s not going away.  Last night wasn’t the first nightmare.  Dean, you’ve always been there for me.  Why won’t you let me be there for you?”

 

 

“No.  I’m not doing this.  Just ...let it go.” 

 

 

He stood and dropped some bills on the table, paying for the meal that would have been uneaten except for Sam’s mammoth appetite.  How he managed to live on salads was beyond Dean.  Walking to the Impala, he started it up, letting the comforting vibrations sooth him.  Sam made it down a few minutes later, take out box in hand so he could finish off the rest of Dean’s meal.  He shook his head and smiled fondly at Sam even if he was annoyed, then headed back to the motel to pack up.

 

 

**

 

 

In the history of hiding from his past, this had been his most successful run.  He’d never thought twice about his choice, until the day Sam said he was going away.  I’d hit him and his father in the same visceral way.  Only Dad was reliving the same scene Dean had given him, knowing there was nothing to hold over Sam’s head, and Dean was thinking that after everything he’d given up, he was going to lose Sam anyway.

 

 

Sam hadn’t quite forgiven him for staying quiet during that fight, but it wasn’t that he didn’t support Sam and want him to go.  It had been the pain of letting Sam go, of knowing he’d never have the chance to do the same himself.  Sam had to go, Dean knew it.  There was no way he and Dad would be able to stay under the same roof for much longer.  Dean had been hoping once Sam graduated that he and Sam would be allowed to hunt on their own, but Sam had bashed that hope upside the head with a large rock with the word Stanford written all over it.    Shock had dulled his mind and it was only as Dad was telling Sam to never come back that he’d come back to himself and pushed his way between father and son.  He’d kept his back to Sam, never letting him see the pain in his eyes and Sam didn’t realize that Dad’s anger was directed at Dean as much as Sam.  Sam wasn’t going to be safe on his own, he could hear his father’s fears in his own heart, but he could also hear the recrimination too.  You did this to him.  You let him think he could leave.  You pushed him to this because I wouldn’t let you leave. 

 

 

He was probably right, but Dean didn’t have any words for it that night, or any night after.  He drove Sam to the bus stop and considered what to do, then decided to drive Sam all the way to Stanford instead.  He thought about staying, about trying to make a life with just him and Sam, but he couldn’t leave his Dad.  Without them, John Winchester would be one of the reckless types.  The one that didn’t take care of himself after a hunt and ended up dieing because of an infection that could have been easily dealt with if he weren’t too stubborn to admit there was a problem. 

 

 

So he’d taken Sammy to school and dropped him off at the main entrance, hiding a couple hundred dollars in Sam’s bag to be found later.  No need for sappy notes or long good-byes.  Just a ‘take care man’ and he’d seen himself to the nearest bar.  He’d gotten good and drunk and stayed that way until his father called 5 days later.  Sam hadn’t needed him, hadn’t changed his mind though he never really believed he would, so Dean had gone back to Dad and the hunt that no longer held the importance it once had.

 

 

**

 

 

Demon possession sucked out loud.  No matter how you said it.  Sam took a deep breath as he hobbled out of deserted cabin, looking for him.  Sam had done a hell of a job.  Even if he hated to see Sam injured while they hunted, he could still feel the pride at his brother’s accomplishments.  It was too late to save the woman that had been possessed, but they’d sent the demon back to Hell and that was a good day’s work.  Hell, it was a good month’s work. 

 

 

“Miller time Sammy!”  Dean smiled but it turned into a grimace when his lips turned up and pulled at the cut already there.  “Damn!  I hate when they do that.”

 

 

Sam shook his head as he pulled closer to Dean looking at the offending injury.  “No miller time.  At least not unless it’s at the hotel.  Need to get you cleaned up big brother.”

 

 

Dean rolled his eyes.  Sam was staking his claim on Dean, like he did sometimes after a bad fight.  He’d feel the need to remind Dean of just who he was to him, to remind him that he needed to take care of himself for Sam.  It was kind of funny because he knew it was his own relationship with John mirrored back at him, only he wasn’t like them, wasn’t consumed by the hunt the way John was or the way Sam had started to be after Jess’s death.  Dean did what he did because it helped people and because any other option had been taken from him.  He had found his peace with it a while ago.  They’d lost their Dad, but he had Sam back and that was enough for Dean. 

 

 

The motel was as dirty and disgusting as most of the ones they stayed at and he wondered briefly if he’d get an infection just from being in the room, but he pushed through the door anyway, sitting heavily on the bed as Sam came in behind him, bags in hand and looking for the first aid kit as soon as he had them throw to the floor.

 

 

He pressed a couple pain killers into Dean’s hand and Dean swallowed them dry as he began to pull his jacket off.  He swore a blue streak at the way it pulled his cut but then Sam was there, helping.

 

 

“Damn it Dean.  Just let me help, okay?”

 

 

Dean stopped struggling and let Sam do it.  He heard Sam’s sigh as he pulled Dean’s shirt off and knelt between his legs to get in close to the wound.  He cleaned it quickly and then he was putting stitches in.  It didn’t take long, they were too familiar with this song and dance for that, and then Sam was spreading an ointment over it and bandaging it.  As he did the last he looked up at Dean, shaking his head.  “I just wish you’d let me help more man.  I’m here with you, you don’t have to do everything alone you know?”

 

 

Dean sighed.  “I know Sam.  Just takes a little while to get used to having someone at your back again.”

 

 

Sam cupped his face in his hand and Dean shivered at the intimacy of it.  “It’s not just about the hunt Dean.  You’re hiding something.  I won’t press, but I want you to know I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”

 

 

He wanted to argue that point, wanted to remind Sam that yeah, he was going to go back to his normal life someday, but he was too tired for that.  Instead he started to lean back, letting Sam guide him down to keep from stressing the new stitches any.  Sam lay on his side beside him, looking down at him protectively.  Dean smiled sleepily and wondered if maybe Sam gave him a sleeping pill too.  Bitch.

 

 

“Want to be like you when I grow up Sammy.”  Dean said, closing his eyes.  “Always wanted to be like you.”

 

 

**

 

 

“Is it true?”

 

 

Dean looked up from his plate and noted the determined look on Sam’s face.  He thought about what they were talking about before the current lull but there had been nothing in that conversation to match this.

 

 

“Is what true?” 

 

 

“What the demon said.”

 

 

Dean shrugged as he took another bite.  He figured, lives as messed up as theirs, it was about a 50% chance the demon had been truthful.  “I sort of blacked out there for a bit Sammy.  I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you know they lie.”

 

 

“Did you give it all up for me Dean?  Did you want to get out too?  Did Dad hold me over your head?”

 

 

Dean snorted.  “That what the demon said?”  He shook his head to hide the fact that he was secretly reeling at the idea that Sam might realize the truth.  “What would I do Sam?  Where would I go if I weren’t hunting?”  Sam looked like he might argue and Dean knew he had to cut him off because if he started asking questions Dean would have to lie and he’d never been good at doing that with Sam.  “This is the only life I’ve ever known Sam.  I never wanted to be away from my family or from the hunt.”  It was a half-truth but Sam seemed satisfied anyway.

 

 

**

 

 

In many ways, Sam was a mystery to Dean.  As much as he’d learned about him over the years, there was always something he didn’t know.  And there were a full four years of life that Dean still knew very little about.  So when Sam pushed him against the wall after a vicious fight with a poltergeist and kissed him within an inch of his life, he hadn’t seen it coming.

 

 

Sam pressed hard against him, one hand fisted in his shirt front and the other cupping his face in an oddly gentle caress.  “Tell me this is okay.  Tell me you want this.”

 

 

With his inability to lie to Sam, he did the only thing he could really.  He kissed him back.

 

 

**

 

 

The problem with Sam was that seemingly satisfied was not always satisfied.  As well as Dean had learned to know when to push Sam, his brother had learned the same about him.  They’d been busy hunting for the past few months, not able to take time off between hunts.  They were both on edge and with the new edge between them they needed to rest and catch their breaths. 

 

 

When Sam got hit hard in their last hunt, Dean called it quits.  They needed to regroup and heal and restock.  Sam fought him on it, but Dean put his foot down and that night Sam whispered thank yous into his neck as Dean thrust inside of him.  He’d held Sam close all night, running fingers down his back and telling himself over and over again that Sam was okay.

 

 

The next night Sam came back from the library pissed and looking for a fight.  Dean took him to a bar and got them in a fight.  They were both laughing about it on the way back to motel room and Sam’s anger seemed forgotten.

 

 

That morning though, Dean woke to Sam staring down at him.  “You lied to me.”

 

 

Dean blinked quickly, trying to figure out what Sam was talking about. 

 

 

“You said you never wanted anything different.  I checked into it Dean and I know the truth.”

 

 

“What do you think you know Sam?”

 

 

“Yale.  Yale Dean?  You got a scholarship to Yale and you turned it down?  How did I not know about this?”

 

 

Dean groaned.  “Jesus Sam.  It’s… it’s nothing.  It was just school.”

 

 

“Don’t tell me it was just anything Dean.  If you didn’t want to go you wouldn’t have applied.  What did Dad say to keep you from leaving Dean?  What did he do?”

 

 

“Nothing Sam, I decided not to go.”

 

 

“I call bullshit!”

 

 

“Fine Sam.  You want to know?  He told me the same thing he told you, alright?  If you go don’t come back, only I couldn’t do it.  So I stayed.”

 

 

Sam’s eyes filled with tears and he was shaking his head.  “Damn it, she wasn’t lying.”

 

 

Dean looked confused.  “Who?”

 

 

Sam looked up.  “The demon.  She said… she said you were in love with me.  She said that Dad used me to keep you from leaving the hunt.”

 

 

“I wasn’t leaving the hunt Sam.  I was never leaving the hunt.  I wanted to go to school, learn some new things.  I thought…. I was going to study mechanical engineering.”  He said, suddenly unable to stop from spilling it all to Sam.  “I thought I could change things for us.  I could make things easier.  I had ideas about the things I could change to work for us.”

 

 

“Like rock salt shots?”

 

 

“Yeah.  Only Dad…”  Dean shook his head.  “I was going to walk Sam.  I figured he’d calm down a bit but then …” 

 

 

“Why didn’t I hear about any of this?”

 

 

“Told Dad the day before I was supposed to leave.  You were at a friend’s house.”

 

 

“What did he say to you about me Dean?”

 

 

“If I left he wouldn’t let me see you.”  Dean shook his head.  “I couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t leave and not know if I’d be able to talk to you again.  I didn’t want to make things worse with you and Dad either by telling you and making you find ways to contact me when Dad wasn’t looking.  I just… it was better for me to stay.”

 

 

“And then I left anyway.”

 

 

Dean gave a snort.  “Yeah.”

 

 

“I almost asked you to stay with me.  At Stanford.  I knew what I wanted, knew I wanted you, but I was too afraid what you’d think of me.”

 

 

“I almost stayed anyway Sam.  Thought maybe I could go to school too, but I already knew it was too late for me.  I was really a hunter by then and I just... I wanted you away from it all.”

 

 

“So the demon was right.  You let it all go, let all of your dreams go because of me.  Because you loved me.”

 

 

Dean looked at him for a second before answering.  “Of course I did.  Dreams were just… people live without dreams all the time Sam.  I couldn’t live without you.”

 

 

Sam took a deep breath and sighed, leaning forward and letting his lips brush over Dean’s.  “You never have to again Dean.”  He kissed Dean long and hard before finally pulling away.  “What do you want now Dean?  What is your dream now?”

 

 

Dean bit at Sam’s lower lip.  “Got the only one that every really mattered.”

 

 

“What’s that?”

 

 

“You Sammy.  It’s all I ever really wanted.”


End file.
